


Fool in Love

by SaoirseKennedy



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseKennedy/pseuds/SaoirseKennedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nixon and Winters take a little longer to figure things out. </p>
<p>Set during "Why We Fight"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool in Love

“For the love of God,” Ron Speirs’ voice was dampened by the wind and rain that whirled through the valley he was currently standing in. He pointed to the small wooden bridge where a dark haired captain was twirling his hands in the air, over and over, yelling orders and directing Army Jeeps across the river. “Someone get him inside, he’s gonna keel over any second.” 

“Sir?” David Webster cocked his head, looking over at the manic Captain Nixon. 

“He may look fine,” Ron continued, lighting a cigarette. “But that’s the trick; he always looks fine.” 

“I’m not sure I follow,” Webster wiped the water from his face, glancing again at the bridge. 

“Just go tell Major Winters he’s been standing out in the rain all day, screaming,” Ron almost smiled, shaking his head. “He’s been far too productive to be normal.”

So Webster saluted Speirs, jogging over to a small general store that had been bombed out by the Germans some time before Easy had gotten there. He was still working out why they had used the Scorched Earth policy on themselves as he crossed the doorway, stepping around a joking Luz and Perconte, who were carrying boxes full of chocolate bars and cigarettes. 

“Major Winters?” David looked in, past the empty shelves and stacks of blankets and jackets that they could’ve used in Bastogne. Well, not David, but the rest of the company. 

“David?” Dick Winters looked paler than usual, with just a ghost of a beard on his face. He had wrapped a scratchy wool scarf around his shoulders, pulling it up around his neck. His expression was unreadable, like always. 

“Sir,” David was still confused as to why exactly he was telling Winters that Nixon was doing his job, albeit loudly. Being away from Nixon for four months, along with the rest of the company had made strangers out of everyone, and the subtle mood changes he used to be able to spot were now completely lost on David. “Captain Speirs wanted me to tell you that,” He paused to laugh, “Captain Nixon has been standing out in the rain all day, screaming.” 

Everyone who had been milling around Winters stopped then, looking up at him quizzically. Lipton, who was laying on a couch that had been dragged in from somewhere snorted, which was greeted by a glance from Winters that would’ve been characterized as mild coming from anyone else. It was almost a glare in Winters’ face. 

“I’m sorry?” He put down his clipboard, moving towards the window. 

“Those were his words, sir,” David gulped. 

There’s a moment, and Dick bursts out laughing. “Yeah, I bet they were,” He scrubbed a hand through his dirty ginger hair, striding towards the door and peering out. 

“Is he alright?” David was quite fond of Nixon, but the captain was so like David that David couldn’t actually recognize him. Everyone else could see the similar patterns of Webster and Nixon, but the two men only glanced at each other, nodding at their shared backgrounds. Both had an ivy league education, albeit from rival schools. Their parents lived in lofty houses in Manhattan, and sometimes David wondered if they had ever crossed paths before the Army. 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Dick strode out into the rain, running towards the bridge. 

“Jesus Christ,” Liebgott was sitting on the edge of the couch Lipton was on, pulling his gloves on. “You think he’ll ever figure it out?” 

Lipton shot him a dirty look, but nodded and looked back down to the book he had. David took off his helmet, watching the scene outside. Dick had his head bent towards a raving Nixon. David thought he could see a slight smirk on Dick’s face through the rain. 

“Figure what out?” David had a distinct feeling he should be writing this moment down for posterity. 

Lipton pulled up, creaking as he struggled to stand. “You’re a smart guy, Web,” He patted David’s back, hobbling away to get his helmet and a jacket. 

He watched Lipton walk out of the store, and he glanced a confused look to Liebgott. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Liebgott said nothing, only staring at him pointedly, lighting a cigarette on his way out. 

  
  


“Look Nix, just go pass out for a few hours,” Ron looked patiently at Nixon, who was kicking off his boots from his perch on a grand German four-poster bed. “Everything’s fine out there,” Ron made a face that might’ve been sympathetic, but Nix wasn’t looking at Ron. 

“If I do will you quit buggin’ me?” Nix’s dark eyes squinted and he sighed dramatically. “Jesus you’re acting like you actually give a shit,” He flopped down on the bed, pulling at the covers. 

“You wound me,” Ron put his hand to his chest in mock horror. 

“Oh please.” 

Ron thought about walking out of the room, leaving Nixon to snooze in the early afternoon drizzle. Instead, he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. 

“Look, Lew,” Ron fiddled with his lighter, keeping his tone neutral. “It’s the end of the war, we’re all tired, and now you’re getting divorced,” He paused when Nix looked up. 

“What’s your point Sparky?” 

“No point,” He tapped Nix’s calf and jumped up, walking towards the door. “It’s just when there’s no more Germans left to kill and no girl to woo,” Ron swung the door open, briefly admiring the gold enameled doorknob. “Why not sack out all afternoon?” 

Nix laughed, but he shook his head. “I was doing fine, Ron.”

“What? Out in the rain?” Speirs rolled his eyes. “You scared the shit out of every Private who looked your way.” 

“Didn’t have to tattle on me to Dick,” Nix grumbled. 

“Yes I did,” Ron was out the door before Nixon could retort. 

 

Dick waited all afternoon for Nix to wake up. He took Nix’s spot and directed Jeeps for about 45 minutes before going back to his godforsaken desk to fill out the new reports that had landed on his desk since discovering Landsburg. He had practically chained himself in his room, trying not to laugh at the memory of a soaked Nixon yelling at a green Private about the importance of dry blankets. 

Most of the men seemed okay, despite the trauma of Landsburg. Nixon had told him there had been dozens of similar camps that the Allies had found, most of them in Poland or deserted parts of Germany. He hung around Liebgott, particularly sensitive to him, but he was roaring as ever, if maybe a little more wild. At any rate, he was sure Joe wouldn’t share anything with a battalion officer. He didn’t take it personally, he was just happy Joe seemed to be holding on. 

After he struggled through a paper for three hours, it was past dinner time. There was still no sign of Nixon. Despite Nix flying off the handle the past few weeks, he doubted Nix would avoid him. Dick tried his best not to judge, and besides he liked Nix too much to really mind anything he did. He just wanted Nixon to stop breaking windows and drinking until dawn. 

At 9:30, Dick jumped down the stairs in the nice German home he was stationed in, trying his best not to look at the pictures of the happy family. The rain had stopped outside, and he crossed the street to the house Nix was in, passing soldier and civilians who had stayed behind. Everyone was calm. 

“Knock-knock,” Dick rapped his knuckles against the doorway into Nix’s room. He saw a vague Lewis Nixon shaped lump in the bed. He chuckled, and let himself in. 

Lew’s borrowed room was much prettier than Dick’s; it had beautiful flowery wallpaper, with little drawings of lavender on it. There was a mahogany desk that had survived any serious damage, although it was severely dusty and there was a chunk missing from the back. Dick could see Nix’s tattered journal and several field manuals sticking out of a folder he had tossed onto it. 

There was a mostly empty bookshelf by the big open windows that rested on the far wall. It looked like someone had tipped it against the wall so it wouldn’t fall over. All of the books were gone, and Dick thought of the newsreel he saw of Nazis burning books. He’d still been in college when that happened. 

Nix’s bed was tall and big enough to hold three grown men. The comforter matched the wallpaper. Nix was bundled up in the sheets and blankets, his pale face pushed into the downy pillows. Dick shook his head, unable to comprehend how anyone could nap for eight hours. 

“Nix,” He whispered, although he knew he’d probably have to yell eventually. “Wake up, it’s nighttime.” 

There was slow groggy movement from the bed, and Dick thought maybe Nix had told him off, which wouldn’t have been a surprise. 

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” He said louder, and pulled the covers off. “You’ve been asleep all day.” 

“Ron told me to,” Nix turned onto his stomach, facing away from Dick. 

“I’m beginning to think he’s a bad influence on you,” Dick was smiling, but he patted Nix on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go eat something.” 

This got Nixon’s attention. “What, you haven’t had dinner?” He flopped over, sitting up. 

“No,” Dick shrugged. 

“Why the hell not?” 

Dick shrugged again. “Reports. I was waiting for you,” He smiled at the ground, realizing how sappy he sounded. 

“Well hell, Dick. You’re a real pal,” Nix hurriedly got up, finding his pants and pulling them on while Dick looked on. “Will you ever learn to feed yourself?” 

Nixon was always on Dick to eat, which is funny because Nixon’s diet is eighty percent liquid. Dick doesn’t indulge himself and say anything about it, though. He’s enjoying the day and doesn’t want to upset Lew. 

“We’d never go to dinner together if I did that,” He opened Nix’s door again, laughing at Nixon as he goes along on one of his tangents. 

 

It’s much later when the two get back to Nixon’s room. Dick is full and a bit tired, but he walked back with Lew to make sure he goes back to bed, and not to any wine cellars. 

“If you wanna crash here that’s fine,” Nixon and Dick offer their rooms to each other almost every night, and Dick accepts easily. Even though his own room is only across the narrow European street, he’d much rather stay here, and not have to climb up to his drafty room. 

“Do you ever want to come back to Europe Nix?” Dick shrugged off his jacket, placing it over the back of the desk chair. 

“Sure,” Lewis walked to the water basin by the bookshelf, splashing cold water on his face. “Preferably when it’s not blown to pieces, though.” 

“Where would you go?” 

“London,” He pulled his boots off and let them fall under the desk.

“Haven’t you already been there?” Dick said plainly. 

“Well, yeah,” Nix narrowed his eyes. “But it’s a lovely city.” 

“I’d like to go to Poland,” Dick unbuttoned his shirt and rolled his shoulders. “But I’d imagine it’ll be a decade before it even has a chance to do well again.”

“It’s got a great musical history, and it’s gorgeous,” Nix is unphased and smiled. 

“You’ve been there?” Dick raised his eyebrows. 

“Oh, no,” Nixon waves his hand. “It wasn’t fashionable to visit Eastern Europe with the Manhattan elite,” He paused to let Dick roll his eyes. “But I’ve read about it.” 

“You’ve read about everything,” Dick sits on the bed and closes his eyes. 

“It is my job, technically.”

They sit in amiable silence, listening to the sounds of the boys outside, the clinking of bottles and the pitches of laughter. Nixon seems better than he was this morning, and Dick thanks God before he opened his eyes to look at Lew.

“Have you heard anything else from Kathy?” Dick kept his eyes on Lew, trying to figure out his mood. 

“No,” Lewis scrunched his nose. “It that why you sent me in today?” 

“What?”

“The whole Kathy thing?” Nixon didn’t look angry, he looked expectantly. 

“Well, gosh, Lew,” Dick heaved a lungful of air out of his mouth. “It’s been a rough week for you.” 

“Dick, we just discovered a labor camp,” He tilted his head to peer at Dick. “It’s been a hard week for everyone.” 

“Okay, but it’s not a big deal,” He didn’t want this to become an event. “You were clearly exhausted, and you haven’t had a break for a while,” He laid his head back on the pillow, hoping to put an end to the pointless conversation. 

Nixon grimaced, but seemed to concede. “You know I’m kinda glad she’s divorcing me.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” He nodded his head. “I was shitty to her, Dick. I cheated on her, ignored her,” He sat down at the desk, turning to face the bed. “Not to mention that we didn’t even know each other when we got married. We sure don’t know each other now,” He didn’t look particularly torn up about his failed marriage. 

“You two weren’t well matched,” Dick bit his tongue. 

“You don’t think so?” 

“No.” 

“Are you glad we’re ending it?” Nixon had a weird look on his face. It made Dick sit up and look down. 

“Well, I only met her the once,” He rubbed the back of his head. “But she seemed like she only liked you for your,” He stopped. 

“My charm and strong sense of self?” Nix waggled his eyebrows. 

“Stop it, Lew,” Dick threw a pillow at Nix. 

“You’re saying she didn’t fall for my killer personality?” 

“I think she just liked your money,” Dick ground out. 

Nixon paused for only a second. “Well, that’s probably true,” He sat next to Dick. 

“That’s doesn’t upset you?” 

“I am pretty rich, Dick, it’s not unheard of,” Nixon pulled the sheet over his bare feet. “Besides, it’s not like I was dying of love for her.” 

Dick glanced at Nix, his mouth pulling up of its own accord. He supposed he had quite a different view of marriage than Nixon. He couldn’t really have a real opinion on it, seeing as the thought of getting married made his stomach flip. 

“Don’t get married until you’re sure about it,” Nix seemed able to read Dick’s mind. 

“Doesn’t that go without saying?” He tapped his fingers on his knees. He was suddenly full of nervous energy. 

“Apparently, no,” Lew chuckled, looking at Dick. “You’ve always been more rational than me, though.” 

“You didn’t deserve it, Nix,” Dick was suddenly adamant. 

“Huh?” 

“This whole Kathy thing,” Dick pulled a face. “It makes me irritated.” 

“You? Irritated?” Nixon sat up, arms crossed. “Look, Dick--” 

“I don’t care what you did, you didn’t deserve it,” Dick couldn’t seem to stop his tongue, and word vomit expelled from him. “You deserve someone who understands your situation, someone who actually knows you and wants to stay around when you become a pain in the ass,” Dick huffed. 

“Dick, you said a naughty word,” Nixon widened his eyes, and Dick could tell he was genuinely surprised. 

“The whole thing is messed up,” Dick ignored Nixon’s jab. “You deserve someone better.” 

“Like who?” 

Dick didn’t know what had changed, but suddenly Nix was very close and Dick was beet red. He couldn’t hear the voices outside anymore and he wondered why he opened his mouth in the first place. 

“Come on, Lew,” He scrunched his knees up to his chest. “I don’t know.” 

“You were just being hypothetical?” 

Dick wasn’t being hypothetical. He looked at Nixon’s deep black hair and his one freckle on his left cheek. He remembered all of the mornings at Toccoa he got out of bed and smirked at the drowsy sleep filled face of Nix, standing just barely at attention down the row from him. The Georgia sun would shine in his eyes and he’d groan, and Dick would have to hold in his laughter. 

“I don’t know what to say, Lew,” He wrung his hands. 

“Dick,” Lew sat up on his knees, his face dangerously close. “Do you have a crush?” 

Dick thought he was going crazy. How could Lewis say something like that? More importantly, how could he tell? 

He took a deep breath. “Lew,” He cautioned. 

“It’s okay Dick,” Lewis was suddenly serious, but he kept his face where it was. 

Dick blushed deeply. He pulled at his collar and kept his knees where they were. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t deny it, and he seriously doubted that Lew would ever make fun of him or trick him, but he didn’t know if he possessed the strength to say the actual words. 

“Dick?” Lew’s face was suddenly embarrassed. “Am I way off base here?” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry if--” 

“No,” Dick shook his head. “You’re not wrong.” 

Lewis smiled, but Dick wasn’t looking at him. He felt warm all over and smiled into his lap. 

“You know I feel the same right?” 

Dick felt like he was going to explode. “I’m glad you’re not with Kathy anymore.” 

Nix slowly went for Dick’s hand, and they clasped their hands together on the flowery bedspread. The voices magically resumed outside, and Dick felt newly exhausted. 

  
Dick woke in the middle of the night, although to be completely honest it was closer to early morning than late at night. He was curled up, and Nix’s hand was barely ghosting on his hip. It felt hot against him, and he stayed awake just long enough to appreciate the pretty bedspread and the moon shining in on them from above. 


End file.
